


We've All Got A Childhood

by starcrossed_writer



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Alien Biology, Autistic Keith (Voltron), Blade of Marmora Keith (Voltron), Gen, Keith (Voltron)-centric, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 19:50:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16226123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starcrossed_writer/pseuds/starcrossed_writer
Summary: It takes a castle-ship to care for a de-aged part-alien friend, and maybe even more than that.





	We've All Got A Childhood

Everything happened in such a fast-paced blur, before anything could seem to be registered at all in enough time.

It was during a routine mission, but instead of the usual artillery there were new (and in great abundance) Galra fleets with differently shaped ships within their ranks. Team Voltron was having quite the scuffle trying to keep them at bay from invading more of the planet they were trying to go towards.

The penchant they thirsted after was primarily life-based, quintessence seeping from the planet Yrefa in waves that they were focusing on to use the Komar. Voltron was tasked by the inhabitants to not permit any more tyranny of stealing resources and valuable usage of workers against their will to enslave. Though, it was proving a task rigorous in vigor and patience.

Voltron was swamped with the situation at hand, unaware of anything that could be transpiring a vast distance away from them. To one of their own.

The issue that needed to be addressed, however, did not occur anywhere near. Instead, it took place on the other far side of the universe. It was on a Blade of Marmora mission to infiltrate a ship, done in order to gather more data on the shipment and movement of the supply line.

Where Keith was currently stationed to implore more information about, adhering to whatever plan he came up with to not get captured. Or worse.

Keith had quickly learned, the more he had been out on the field, how to not attack and instead improve on his stealth, watching and waiting in the looming shadows. He became cat-like and silent, avoiding conflict but staying out of sight in order for the operation to not be compromised.

If even one sentry fired off, others were sure to be alerted and thus quickly overwhelm his singular defense.

As he lightly stepped down the hallway, all he could hear was his own steady breathing behind the mask—he tuned his hearing to check for any others present for now until he got to the access point.

Kolivan's voice crackled in his ear, so he focused for a few choice ticks on that to pay attention towards instead. He approached where he wanted to, using his blade to cut out and let the piece of metal come loose. Before it could fall and create any noise alerting to where he was, he grabbed it and placed it gently on the ground.

"The last shipment's readings had been a purposeful error to throw us off track, so see if you'll be able to override the codes." Kolivan had said, sharp and attentive to the task at hand while he took care of things on his end.

Keith nodded, bringing out the monitor to scan the shipment track record, typing on the holographic screen to do as it was suggested, and grinning a bit as he succeeded. He sent the readings over to Kolivan. Keith then checked to see if he was noticed, finding no sentries or such. So, he quickly put the piece of metal back in place-ensuring it wouldn't fall off by enforcing it securely snug within the wall.

He successfully put it in without the metal causing the stereotypical loud scraping off-kilter tune, the one made when scratched against another of the same material.

Keith turned and sheathed his blade once more in the holster, ran as fast as he could to the extraction point-all the while making his footsteps airy to prevent much noise.

"These readings display the same as before, they're off the charts-but they're fluctuating unlike before. We reconvene in sixty ticks, meet me there." The comm cut out there and Keith rolled his eyes in response, knowing Kolivan to be one of few words.

Since the mission with Regris ending up in his death, it's been him and Kolivan until he can find another young Galra apparently in his age range of eighteen. Regris was about his age even if it didn't seem or sound so, and they'd become some sort of comrades before it had happened.

He still terribly missed Regris, who had seemed to imprinted on him the first time he called his tail cool. It was prehensile, how could he  _not_  find it absolutely incredible? They had worked really well together, especially in training.

But he digresses; Regris is gone, just like others before him. The Blade seems like a disjointed family-they care for each other but they are more reckless and misplaced than Voltron. The members are scattered everywhere, agents valiantly giving themselves up without a suicidal roadblock to stop the process. Anything to accomplish the mission.

Keith pushes it to the back of his mind, focusing on what's crucial right now-the objective he's been assigned at hand currently, and making sure he gets his ass back on the ship before Kolivan leaves him (although he personally thinks Kolivan is too stubborn to).

The ship is covered behind bigger ones in the unused corner of the bay, so that it is not spotted or even given any notice of its location. Primarily, in some situations Blades may drape a huge cloth over it to give it the illusion that it is just a storage container.

Usually, though, the prime way is to just have another ship shadow it; the aforementioned technique is done mainly when it gets dire. A last resort or second option, could be said about what it is addressed as.

No sooner does he get to the docking bay, he sees the hidden ship, doors shutting and Kolivan no doubt inside. Keith recognizes that is done to help easy and fast takeoffs. The buildup is done during the crucial ticks alerting any Blades to get on, especially in case of a close getaway situation.

Best to be prepared, after all.

Keith quickly meets Kolivan no sooner than told, breathing heavily as he regains his breath. He has a sharp pain in his foot, but the focus sparred towards the mission makes it blur his memory if he had gotten shot or something else had occurred.

The only thing registering logically in his brain was that it couldn't be life threatening. Keith would be bleeding out from the afflicted area right now if he had actually gotten himself shot somehow on the bottom of his foot.

They were on a forest planet called Gyrukri to collect the intelligence, looking at the information, but Keith sensed no fault except a small tear through the suit there where he felt the pain the most. The skin there was bizarre and yellow, and so the smallest Blade didn't voice his concern like it would be advised to.

Instead, he kept quiet. It was only a minor injury, and he deduced that a night's rest should simply do the trick.

Keith has learned that was the case for most simple injuries he'd received before, after all.

* * *

Sleep doesn't come easy that night for Keith, per the usual.

However, most of the time it's due to nightmares. This particular moment it's actually instead from the pain in his foot, causing a strong burning sensation to envelop his entire body.

Keith had tried with various amounts of difficulty to not focus on the injury, and since then has checked for a thorn or something that would stay in his skin to cause the source of discomfort. He couldn't find anything of the sort, but he massaged his leg leading down to it, hissing whenever he hit a sore spot.

Deducing it to be internal caused by an external force, he tugs off his left sock. Massaging the area, he hisses more and can't help but release a whine from the sharp ache it brings.

He tries to make sure his body remains loose, moving his foot over and over in rotations from the ankle. Being tense just hosts the pain like a guest, inviting it to crawl more into his system. If he keeps on moving it, there'll be a bigger chance it won't get numb nor invite more blatant feelings.

Keith is aware he needs to be quiet, as on the Blade's base the set-up for sleeping quarters is different. Galra are social beings, ones who crave yet separate touch and closeness—Keith would have never pegged them as such, but it made sense in a weird way.

Explains his craving for attention that never really dissipates when he's in need.

Therefore, each member has a small chamber (although from Keith's personal perspective, it's fairly humongous for him) where the bed is instead a nest of blankets and pillows. He's gotten the best sleep he's had in years due to this set-up, which he's guessing had to do with him not addressing the Galra side of his genetics, too used to the human way of doing things.

How they make their sleeping area is just one of those on the list.

Everyone here sleeps in the Blade suits in case of invasion, so that they'll be ready and not caught off guard. Of course, the heavy armor plates and other parts that would normally be uncomfortable to sleep in are taken off—nobody could probably get any shut-eye with hard protective layers like those on them.

Keith had taken off the weird boot-sandals part of the gear, past the complexities, all to investigate the strange occurrence of his foot's major conniption.

It wouldn't stop lingering, pulsing like a crude heartbeat behind and below the pale skin of his ankle. The beating was not obvious, but it was like when you feel your heartbeat by pressing a hand to your chest. His heel ached something fine, but his eyes wouldn't keep themselves open.

Although the injury in and of itself was the cause of his current state, the day's activities had caught up with Keith. Even through the pain, he felt his body go more lax out of just pure tiredness. Unable to really fight against his body's wishes, he gave in and slumped a bit.

The mission had worn him out rugged; he required sleep or he wouldn't be of much use to Kolivan or any mission posed in general to undertake. Keith sighed, breathing heavily and gritting his teeth as he chose to curl up back in his little nest of sorts.

He fell asleep soon after, surprisingly with much simplicity compared to the norm. The last awake feeling being that of constriction before his face went resolved with calmness in its features for the night.

* * *

Kolivan noted with concerned disdain that Keith was late to the debriefing the next morning. It was quite unusual for the boy to be late, most times being awake already and in the training room or getting breakfast in the mess hall.

Frowning, he fixed his posture and made headway towards Keith's sleeping compartment, adhering his face to school one of fake displeasure (if Keith really did oversleep, he had to give the boy the benefit of the doubt yet not seem it—it had been explained to him as of recently that humans required a tad more sleep than Galra do).

The other members parted for their leader, giving him brief greetings. In response, he tipped his head at them to acknowledge, knowing as most headed off towards the goal of food that the smallest member had yet to emerge as he got closer.

Opening the door that vaporized itself when walked through, Kolivan thought it odd that Keith kept his door unlocked. The youngest Blade was cautious and took measures to outright defend that, but still naíve at soul.

His ears pricked in slight intrigue when he heard a small noise amongst ruffling when he grew closer. Peering around the internal structure of the unit, it was clear that it was quiet and unnervingly empty.

Kolivan looked to the nest, seeing the discarded Blade suit. Just noting that was deriding or odd. When he approached closer he paused with slightly widened eyes when he could make out movement.

Reaching out a hesitant claw, he moved away the uniform to drop to the floor out of the way, gently grasping his blade's handle from the holster just in case for practical defense.

Kolivan was met with wide, bright violet eyes.

The hair was atrocious, an utter mess of black swirls and coils atop the head. What the leader could only assume was a human kit, before he tentatively paused, soon registering the connections that it was not just that.

"...Keith?" He'd never heard himself sound so utterly unsure before, trying to grasp what had happened. This was new territory for him, as he worried his fangs into his lip slightly in thought.

The kit—Keith—paid no mind, his attention somewhere else as he brought a piece of nesting material (what appeared to be a jacket) towards his mouth to suckle on. The sleeve was coated in a heavy layer of slobber soon enough with vast ease.

Kolivan let out a sigh, gently taking the sleeve away and ignoring Keith's squeak of protest along with the scowl that took over.

"How did this occur?" He couldn't help but wonder out loud, sticking out a claw and allowing a tiny warm smile to cross his face as Keith moved his arms excitedly up and down, grasping it with one of his little palms in interest.

Something must have infected Keith without much sake for commentary of the subject matter on the mission yesterday, and that had induced an ill effect to cause the age-regression.

"May I pick you up, Keith?" Kolivan gently moved his hands to show what he was doing, still lost but trying to be polite anyway. Keith just giggled, slapping the bed and bouncing repeatedly. He wasn't too sure if Keith is old enough to understand him, but Keith is amazingly not intimidated by his much bigger stature and the fact that Kolivan at this moment is considered a complete stranger.

Kolivan grabbed a lone blanket, lifting the kit with the utmost care to wrap and swaddle him up in it since obviously the Blade uniform didn't shrink with him.

He made sure to hold him carefully, and not with too much force; Keith was smaller than most kits, and Kolivan's immediate thought was that his mother had perhaps given birth to a runt of the litter.

It was banished as soon as it came when he reminded himself that human kits were typically smaller than Galra offspring. He had been taught that by the Voltron paladins, after all. Kolivan had wanted to know why Keith himself was so shortened of height when other half-Galra were almost twice his height, which had led to the discussion of human proportions.

It was absolutely silly of him to think that, remembering the conversation—Keith never knew about the talk, as the blue paladin had suggested Keith is pretty sensitive about his height enough.

The kit peered up at Kolivan, cooing and reaching out small pudgy hands with the full aim to toy with the leader's face. He dodged successfully, a wry deal of amusement winning over to flicker his features.

"We should probably take the initiative to contact Voltron." He murmured, raising an eyebrow as Keith stuck his thumb in his mouth and began to automatically suck on it.

Kolivan chuckled lightly, shifting Keith in his hold and—hearing the boy give a soft whimper—wondering whether it was too cold for him or not. That, along with the other option being he just did not like being jostled with no warning.

Most Galra kits were covered in fur, except for the varying sub-species of reptilian types. It was due to the fact that Galra young couldn't regulate heat very well, so they developed the fuzzy protective layer the first few cycles of their life.

Galra did have varying temperatures as they matured, running the gamut to what in certain cases could be classified as confusing the human species by being sickened with a fever.

Depending again on the sub-species of Galra, a fair amount or all shed it when reaching the stage of adolescence, since at that time their bodies had acclimated and adjusted to insulate the body with natural temperature.

Feline-type Galra kept the fur and grew it, however, and typically their temperature ran warmer because of it. Keith's mother, Krolia, was such type. So, he is perhaps trying to find a medium between his human temperate and his Galran one also. Especially since obviously when Keith is normal, there is no fur (suggesting he shed it easily maybe the first human years of his lifespan) to be seen.

Kolivan had heavy degrees of worry for Keith, due to primarily his appearance—it might not be best for only one simple blanket to have Keith wrapped up in.

Keith had not that heavy of body fur, the purple dusting his body but not fully—it left room for the paleness of his skin to peak out. The soft violet follicles were almost invisible because of how they were so delicately light. Whilst it was a pretty decent amount, it wasn't the standard needed for retaining of warmth.

He still looked eerily human, if not his ears (usually covered by his hair) being as subtly responsive in their limited movement, flicking now and then. They were shaped somewhat pointed at the tips, but it wasn't notable unless his hair was pulled back in a ponytail.

His teeth were not there for now, and Kolivan assumed they come in later in human infancy. The leader hummed and thought they'll probably be the not sharpened nor refined baby fangs he knew all kits get.

Oddly enough his shoulder scar was still there plainly to be seen on the right, just as when he was the normal human age of seventeen.

This was explained due to how developmentally humans aged faster than Galra in terms of relativity.

Technically, at normal age, Keith would be literally still considered a Galra kit. A cycle equivocated to six human years, making him only three cycles.

It was the normal number of Galra cycles compared to the human conversion to years. Kolivan figured most humans Keith's age tend to take on more of their parents appearance—therefore, the facial or body markings and other genetics would be showing up later in life.

Keith really did look incredibly similar to Krolia from what Kolivan could remember of her, in the face structure and especially the eyes. Those traits naturally just stuck, and Kolivan thought of it intriguing as he reached for two more light blankets to encase the kit in.

He was only a newborn, and he wouldn't be considered a cycle old until a while passes by.

Kits relied on their parents particularly to help change them, and give them the right food for their delicate digestive systems-they can only eat puréed or ground meat and drink a formula of milk.

Keith grizzled, Kolivan watching with degrees of fondness. Instincts took over as he started going down the hallway while holding the bundle; he needed to perhaps think about finding those suitable foods and drink for Keith.

Here at the headquarters, there was a nursery. When thought about it, if Keith had been taken care of by his mother and not whoever his other parent was he would be taken care of here.

While Krolia ran missions, she'd leave Keith here to be kit-sitted by anybody willing and having the time to.

This nursery was run by volunteers and trained caretakers, whose aim was taking care of all ages of Galra kits up until they could independently talk and fend for themselves. It was always intensely hectic in there, as is to be expected when tending to offspring in general.

Entering the room, he could see kits older than Keith now were playing or creating their own make-believe Voltron shows. A few caretakers were preoccupied changing diapers or coaxing food down some, carefully and gently rubbing their necks and bellies to help them swallow then digest.

"Leader, what a pleasant surprise." A soft and instantly calming voice drew his attention away from the sights as he went over to sit by the overseer of the nursery.

"I need a crucial favor of you, Orisi."

"To what do I owe this visit, leader?"

Orisi was sat at the head desk, typing information down onto the holopad. She moved to focus her sight on Kolivan as soon as she finished the sentence, giving him a polite smile. Her eyes were obviously exhausted, reading of sleepless nights caring for the ones who wouldn't quell themselves to slumber.

"An incident occurred on our last mission, of which one of our members got de-aged into a kit." Kolivan delicately started, making sure the bundle in his arms was not going to fall out of them.

"Who was it, if I am permitted to ask?" Orisi hummed, standing up slowly from her chair. With near graceful movements, she peeled back the blanket a bit just in time to see Keith yawn. He blinked at her, before giggling and bouncing excitedly.

"Keith, as you can see." Kolivan sighed, looking down at the kit. In response, he settled his hand on Kolivan's cheek, making Orisi laugh.

Kolivan tried his best to be unamused.

"May I?" Orisi held out her hands to show what it is she wanted to do. Kolivan nodded, only slightly reluctant to be free (if just momentarily) of the tiny kit finding his face so captivating to play with.

She wiggled Keith out of the covers, holding him securely under his arms as she went over to a station to put him in. Kolivan trailed after her, folding the blankets over his arm-he had a strong feeling they would still be needed later on-focusing on her assessment.

Opening up the stationary pod, Orisi cradled the back of Keith's head (the most sensitive part) and put him down in it, then spun the dangling ornaments hanging above. Keith paused, mesmerized at the motions as he tracked it with his eyes curiously.

The cover materialized over the station when Orisi pressed a button, quickly assessing and scanning before not too long a screen of vitals were being shown on the translucent glass.

"He looks healthy, although there is a slight inflammatory abrasion on his foot..." Orisi tutted, softening as Keith began to shiver due to being out of protective coverings. His fur could only be so effective on the ship of naturalistic cold conditioned air.

Letting the cover dissipate, she moved to lightly poke the appendage in question, "I assume that he was pricked by the spine or sticker of a native organism from that planet you had the mission on. Possibly a weed or flower, as Keith would have seen it coming had it been an animal."

The kit whined as she increased the pressure only just a bit to test, tears forming in his eyes.

"Oh, shh, little kit, you're okay..." Orisi cooed, rubbing her thumb over his face with a tiny chuckle. Keith quieted, grabbing onto her hand to play with it like he had with Kolivan's.

"I have never had to handle a half-human kit before. Keith is definitely smaller than any kits here, and it read that his weight is only about four gryis. I have no idea if that is considered acceptable for human standards, but as you know in Galra it is incredibly worrying." She starts, parting from the now calm kit to materialize a tinier size of diaper (sometimes a kit would be born prematurely, which meant the sizes needed to be adjusted).

"He is malnourished, and therefore he requires much-needed supplements to get nutrients back within his body." Orisi comes back over to Keith, seeing the half-human kit squeal and excitedly wiggle.

After putting the article down on the station, she picks him up again, and in response Keith makes an unhappy mewl in protest to being picked up again-Orisi bounces him, moving over to a towel.

Checking over him, she scrunches her eyebrows up in thought. Laying Keith down and positioning the towel to his lower half, she hums and gently pushes on the kit's bladder. Keith makes a broken sob, wiggling as tears form in his eyes. His face starts reddening from the action, clearly opposing what was happening.

"Let it out, kit, it's not good to hold it all in." She admonishes, applying slightly more pressure. Eventually the kit realizes the pain and releases, urinating on the towel with a tiny cry. Orisi praises him for being brave, talking to him hushed and light.

Kolivan looks at her in confusion for an explanation—he knew minimal information of Galra kits due to never having cared for his own ever before.

Orisi matches his gaze, "Kits have difficulty successfully using their systems. They require monitored help to eat or drink, excrete urine and feces, and retain temperature. This applies to Keith here as well, although perhaps not all the time."

She reaches over Keith to wet a different towel after disposing of the soiled one. Cleaning him all over as an impromptu bath, Orisi purrs to calm the upset kit. In turn, choppy little purrs coax themselves out of Keith's chest, hitching every so often with nerves and fear.

"There's nothing to be afraid of, kit." She rubs his forehead in practiced motions, moving to scratch lightly behind his ear. In response, the ear twitches slightly, and Keith gives a satisfied rumble.

"So emotional, this one..." Orisi wonders, trailing off as she regards Kolivan's presence once more. He chooses to do nothing but wordlessly agree with a barely there, jerking nod.

"Later on, I will give him an actual bath. For now, what has been done will suffice momentarily." She says, making sure the kit is secure in the station. Keith looks up at them, yawning and blinking those round violet eyes in confusion.

Kolivan watches her pull out from under the station a suckler, nudging it against Keith's mouth with no force; it was similar to a loose offering if he so wanted it.

"It is perhaps best to contact Voltron to ensure them of his condition, if you're not already preparing to do it. In the meantime of your transmission to them, I'll take care of this little one for you. Please contact me for when they are ready to receive Keith."

Kolivan stared at the kit for a second, as he opens his mouth of blunt yet obvious fangs and begins to nurse on the suckler. Almost immediately, Keith's eyes seemed to relax from their excited previous state.

Orisi sets out dressing him, adding some powder to not immediately cause rashes and then tugging the diaper gently up to rest on the kit's hip—all the while, Keith chirps and wiggles a bit (but not enough to trouble the caretaker's process, luckily).

She delicately nudges the small blanket pile to gather around the kit's small body, draping one over him.

The glass covering materializes back over Keith, the inside darkening to a dark atomsphere simulating night to naturally relax and soothe into sleep the de-aged Blade member.

Kolivan gave an affirmative to what she had said, as she folds an outfit over the rail of the station for later when he comes out (when the paladins arrive to retrieve Keith). It was a simple loose pair of sleeping wear, from what Kolivan notes.

"Keith will remain here in this," she puts a hand on the station, "and the paladins are free to borrow this throughout however long Keith remains this young."

Bending down below the clear protective glass of the crib-like structure, Orisi moves to turn a knob carefully on a setting she is familiarized with. She hesitates and thoughtfully turns it down after a beat as she remembers about humans' unique physiology. Especially the capability to easily get burned, among others.

The caretaker looks at how Keith's eyes start shutting, due to feeling the warmth beginning to softly emit from the pod-like station.

It'll seep into Keith's skin, making it a soft and healthy pink to not show overheating. Either Orisi or another caretaker will turn the heat off periodically to ensure no harm is caused. This way, the heat can permeate and exist in a contained form until it depletes once more. Then the cycle continues.

The Blade kit cuddles with one of the stuffed animals put in there for comfort, rocking back and forth on his back.

Kolivan raises an eyebrow as the kit clings to it, despite the fact it is quite literally the size of him. Tiny fists bunch themselves up in the fur of what the leader is to assume a Klanmuŕal. An ancient Altean beast that they have learned of, one of the workers here sewed it in their pastime for the kits.

"There is an outfit to dress him in later, but for now simply the diaper is sufficient. The station is used to incubate and simulate warmth in itself, but not make it too hot—holes in the top release the air to keep it regulated, as it does get cold here at the base." She smiles, her face crinkling.

The outfit mentioned is still hanging off the rails of the station, at the ready so Keith can quickly get dressed with the help of somebody here.

"We don't want his temperature going down at all or much if can be helped, as I'm not quite sure how well humans generate internal temperatures by themselves—so, monitoring it here will be the safest option."

Orisi finishes the informative talk preemptively by her attention being grabbed by a pair of unruly and loudly-arguing kits (mewling and hissing at each other, bristled to their spines at different levels).

The dispute is little more than who wants to pilot which lion, stuffed versions of the lions of Voltron scattered on the floor in front of the two. One has tears in their eyes, and the other is scowling something fierce—brows all furrowed and stubborn creases.

Both of them are debating loudly over who should get the Red Lion.

Orisi grins ruefully at Kolivan, apologetically excusing and extracting herself to go back to her job (promising to check in on the tiniest kit as of late in the nursery dutifully as much as she can).

Kolivan takes this as initiative to alert the paladins of Voltron of the situation at hand. Prying himself away from the station—where Keith had since drifted off to sleep due to the warmth surrounding him, positioned on his back and suckling his suckler—he leaves to go start communications.

A heavy breath sits in his ribcage, lodging itself like a solid weight that does not abate.


End file.
